Even Heroes need Guardian Angels
by merick
Summary: Just a little musing from Logan's POV, now that he has some time on his hands in Utopia. Does anyone watch out for heroes?
1. Chapter 1

There aren't many ways I can get hurt, even less ways I can get killed. Not that that fact has stopped a whole crap load of people from trying to achieve one or the other. Cutting my head off would likely do the trick, so would tearing out my heart, but both of those methods would involve getting through adamantium bones, and I think I can count on my claws just how many people have the weapons to do that. Fire, or an explosion, if it was hot enough and sustained enough like Phoenix fire, or re-entry temperatures, would probably burn away what's left of the human part of me, so that would be another way. Of course someone could always cut off my oxygen, I still have to breathe; that might be the easiest way. You might be asking yourself, Logan? Why the hell are you spending your free time sorting out how it is that you could die? Simple answer, when you've lived as long as I have, and seen things go to hell that way I have, sometimes you're just looking for an out.

Scott calls this place Utopia, I have my own names for it, 'piece of shit rock' comes to mind just at the moment. Used to belong to Magneto, one of my best friends, you might want to re read the second sentence of this little work; he falls into the category mentioned therein. (See I can use big words too.) It was a space base, knocked to earth and submerged at the bottom of the sea for years till Scott decided to dredge it up and make it into the Mutant homeland. Course it has its problems, name not withstanding, no resources to speak of, no means of really sustaining a population, and the best one, it's sinking back into the ocean.

Magneto, Erik, whatever he's calling himself these days, he's on our side now. I still don't quite understand how some people can go from trying to kill you to working to save your sorry ass in such a short time. Don't really feel like asking him about anyways. If he uses his power to keep this rock afloat he won't be able to toy with me anymore, and that suits me just fine.

So I spend a lot of time by myself right now, at least when I'm here on the island. I go to the mainland as often as I can, I pass for normal pretty easily, long as nobody pisses me off. And I still have people who owe me favors, which means I can get supplies. I do my part for our little civilization; don't let anyone say I ain't a team player. I'm just trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life; I guess that's what most of us are trying to do. I sure as hell am not going to spend the rest of it hiding, or sitting on a rock, waiting for someone to decide to drop a bomb on us and rid themselves of the mutant problem once and for all. Right now though, I just don't have the foresight to figure out how any of this is going to get any better. Short of mutant-kind solving the greenhouse gas problem or bringing universal peace I can't see a way that we are going to be heroes any more. But I leave sorting out that shit to people like Scott and Xavier and Fury.

Sometimes I can go off on tangents, you might have noticed. I didn't start writing this to express my great displeasure with my current situation in life. No, believe it or not, I'm trying to sort out something that's been bothering me, in the back of my swiss cheese brain, for quite some time now. I just never had the free time to spend on thinking about it, like I do now. So, now I'm gonna figure it out, or rather, figure her out. If I write it all down I'm less likely to screw it up.


	2. Chapter 2

I think I can remember seeing her at least twice before, though there might have been other times. In the heat of battle you can miss things that aren't already in your line of sight; though I like to think that I don't miss much, I'm still alive after all.

The first time I remember was in the arctic, the tundra of Northern Canada. Some call it desolate but I think it is an incredible sight. It's just nature, as far as the eye can see. It's quiet and yet the noisiest place on earth depending how you listen. Maybe I should get off this rock and go back up there, build a cabin; nobody up there gives a damn who or what you are. See? I get off topic really easily. Anyways, back to the tundra.

I'd been doing an assignment for Alpha Flight, not free lancing per-se, but something in everyone's best interest. This was years before the whole Utopia holocaust. Sorry, maybe not the best analogy, but it sure seemed a lot like some kind of mutant registry, just like Magneto used to go on about. I don't want to admit he might have been right, too much pride. NORAD had picked up a number of odd hits over the area in just a few days, and with the Flight dispersed, they needed another set of eyes. I learned to fly a Sikorsky chopper awhile back and I didn't really mind the airtime anyways. I was following a laid out flight plan, keeping my eyes on the scrub and snow, not thinking about much of anything, just looking for anything out of the ordinary. I found it.

A flash from the ground, and the familiar whistle, I've heard a few surface to air missiles in my time, so I knew what it was right away. Now don't get me wrong, the Sikorsky is a pretty maneuverable piece of machinery, but I was flying low to the ground, and I didn't have a lot of time to move. Not that I'm making excuses for myself, I did manage to get the cockpit out of the missile's flight path, just not the rear prop. The crash was pretty spectacular if I do say so myself, and I've seen a few. Unfortunately, the crash also left me in a pretty bad way. The impact with the ground shook me up a bit, but that was survivable, for me. The burns too, second and third degree I figured, mostly to my face and hands, the flight suit helped with that. However, the approaching motors, which were easily identified as snow machines did not help my situation. Lying on the ground, trying to figure out which way was up they had plenty of time to get to the crash site, discover me, and unload I don't know how many rounds of automatic weapons fire into me. I ended up in really rough shape. But still, at that point, I figured I had a 95% chance that things were going to heal up, just like they usually did.

So there I was, lying on the tundra, hearing the crackling of the aircraft burning beside me, feeling the pain of the burns, and the bullets, waiting for things to get better; but they didn't seem to be, not as fast as those things usually did. Then I felt the moisture around my right leg, and became aware of the smell. Blood smells the same no matter where it comes from. But my fingers felt the piece of metal beyond the ragged edges of my flight suit leg and the sticky liquid that coated them was my own blood, gushing from my femoral artery. My 95% became 75% in fairly short order as I figured that whether or not I pulled the piece of the Sikorsky out of my flesh, that the bleeding wasn't really going to get worse. I was starting to feel the cold ground from beneath me seep into the metal of my bones; and let me tell you, that is a disconcerting feeling. I closed my eyes and waited on my 75%.

75% became 50% when I felt warmth suddenly on my chest, radiating down my limbs. I figured I was probably going into shock because of the blood loss. So I thought to myself, that if this really was going to be it, that I would go out with my eyes open, looking up at the sky, waiting for sunset, and maybe nightfall, it seemed almost cyclical to me. Born out here, die out here; not a bad thing. So I tried to open my eyes. The blood from my wounds and the serous discharge from the burns had frozen over the lids, and I couldn't open them to see. I nearly laughed with the irony of it all, but stopped myself when a warm breath seemed to come across them. I could scent nothing in the air but my own blood and the smell of the fire beside me, but the feeling came again, warmth across my eyelids, like nature herself was exhaling onto my skin, and I felt the moisture there as the ice melted and I could finally open my eyes to see.

The fluids that poured into them momentarily blinded me, but as my sight focused I found myself staring into a face, or the smoky image of one. A woman, bathed in a golden haze, with an oval face and eyes just on the normal side of being too wide. She smiled at me; at least it seemed like a smile, it looked very serene as my vision cleared. But as soon as I could focus compellingly enough to make myself believe that what I was seeing could be real, the face was gone, and all I could see was the black smoke from the Sikorsky and I knew I had to get myself away from the wreckage. I found though, that I could move again. And as I sat the bullet fragments rained down from my flight suit, leaving only the torn fabric as proof they had ever hit me. And the debris that had been lodged in my leg had also worked its way free, the wound almost totally closed. I shook my head, which I found still attached, much to my delight, and stood, forcing myself to move away from the fire.

I didn't know then if what I had seen had been real, or just a product of the injuries and impending shock. But I didn't dwell on it; I didn't dwell on much back then. I just moved my ass as far away from the Sikorsky as I could and waited for the Forces to come pick me up, which they did, about an hour later.

That was the first time.


	3. Chapter 3

Explosions and I don't play well together. Doesn't that sound ridiculous? Does anyone play well with explosions? I make the point simply because explosions are one of those things which can knock me on my ass, or in the case of the second time I can remember seeing that face, knock me straight into another life threatening jam.

It was here in San Francisco funnily enough, but before Scott raised his rock. We'd lured one of Thursk's Sentinel robots away from the city; doing our darnedest as X-Men heroes to keep innocent civilians from being killed in the collateral damage of its assault on us. I was on the thing's head, doing my usual slash and stab job, trying to get at the electronics when the damned thing took to the air, heading out over open water. The exhaust from its boosters made it hard to see for those who were on the ground, and it was quickly out of Kurt's teleportation range, and Scott's beams, with me still clinging to its head. Rogue and Storm were pursuing it, I assumed, but I wasn't about to bail before finishing the job. I'm stubborn like that, you might have noticed. So I kept tearing at the thing and holding on against its attempts to shake me loose.

I suppose I could have paid a moment's heed to the fact that the damn things had a habit of blowing up. And true to its established pattern, so did this one, helped along by my interference. The fall to the water also would have been totally survivable for me, except for the concussion wave from the explosion, and the way it knocked my brain one way in my skull, and the impact on the water knocked it back the other. Passed out for a minute, and two hundred pounds of adamantium began a rather quick descent into the black. I awoke when I tried to take my first breath of air and found a mouthful of salt water instead. I started kicking for the surface, but with nothing left in my lungs I knew it was going to be a nasty swim and that it was gonna hurt.

And then there was that golden kind of light again. I don't recall that it immediately put me in the mind of the tundra episode, but it definitely flashed back when the face materialized in front of me again, accompanied by more of a human form. I felt arms wrap under mine more than saw them, and felt a little more buoyant, which was a great help. But my chest was starting to ache with the lack of oxygen, and the muscles in my legs were burning.

I looked into those almost too big eyes again, and found them looking back at me, with a distinct air of concern, different than the serenity I had remembered from my first glimpse of them. She cocked her head, and then, quite unexpectedly on my part, pressed her mouth to mine, parted my lips with the force of her own and exhaled deeply into my lungs.

The air rushing in was, well, like oxygen to a drowning man; fine, sometimes the obvious works just as well as a fancy description. The energy it gave me let me kick a few meters closer to the surface. She did it again, and I didn't even wonder where she was getting the breaths from to give to me; being as she was underwater too. Some more kicks, and I could see real rays of the daylight piercing the black, and it became easier to make out her form too. If I had wondered before it was now quite obvious she was female. I could see the soft fall of shoulders from her neck, and the taper to her waist and the gentle flair of her hips beneath. We were only feet from the surface when she gave me the last breath, lingering just a moment longer than the other times I noticed, grinding against me with her mouth, just delicately. Then I broke the surface, only to be scooped up by a gust of wind, which sent a shiver through my body, owing in part to the damp uniform I wore. Storm had plucked me from the water, and I could only look back down to see nothing where the golden glow had been only seconds before except the floating debris of the Sentinel and the slick its fluids raised. That time the vision stayed with me for a number of days; before I finally had to replace it with the necessity of being an X-Man full time again. Work always does get in the way of my fun it seems.


	4. Chapter 4

Winter in New York was never a pleasant matter, and it was even more uncomfortable on the rock. Power problems plagued us regularly, so we conserved heat when we could. It didn't affect me as much as some of the others. I've lived a lot of my life outdoors, whether by accident or by design. But I have to admit, I preferred to be warm, so I was feeling a little on the miserable side as I watched the latest in a series of snowstorms crawl across Manhattan. It also didn't help that the nightmares were back. I had gone months without one, maybe because the building of this place and its maintenance had left me good and exhausted most days, and I fell into dreamless sleep more often than not. But they had returned, with a vengeance, and I was waking in the dark with clawed up blankets again; which wasn't helping the cold situation. I had long ago sorted out that it was best for me to sleep on a futon mattress. That way if I did end up slashing things at night, it was simpler to repair. Wadded up cotton only had to be restuffed, and the cover stitched back together, certainly better than throwing out bisected coils on a regular basis, and more discrete as well. I'd also learned to keep my quarters well away from most everyone else, and add soundproofing. I didn't want anyone else hearing me waking up screaming; it kind of ruins the tough guy image.

So I was laying there, on the Franken-mattress; probably tossing and turning off the blankets I did have; how would I know, I was asleep? Reliving another memory of death; watching someone I cared for die, again, in living color, and as in so many of the nightmares, powerless to stop it. Therein lay the source of so much physical carnage, not knowing it, I'd unsheathe my claws, attempting futilely to change the preordained destiny of the vision. In the dream I was screaming, but in reality I think I was still just mewling like a child; I've watched others through night terrors, and as loud as you think you are being, the truth is a little anticlimactic, at least in the beginning.

It was getting to the really bad point of the nightmare, the part where the mewling stops and I let loose in both worlds, but something changed; I felt something, hands on my hands, a weight over top of me, and then, another unexpected surprise, warm breath on my face, and lips pressed to mine, all in the expanse of a few seconds. The visions faded, though I think I remained asleep, at least for a few moments longer. It felt, comfortable, familiar, and truth be told, I don't get reprieves from the nightmares often, and I don't get the fun dreams much either, so part of my brain was determined to enjoy it.

The slight pressure I had felt on my wrists abated, and slid up my arms to my shoulders and neck, even as the kiss continued and with arms now free, I tried to wrap them around the body that was straddling me; even as I came back to consciousness. But I found that I couldn't get them around her back, something was in the way, so I slipped them downwards to her waist, pulling her body onto mine more fully. The kiss ended as I opened my eyes to stare up into her face, and she was smiling. And beyond the oval, still glowing just slightly with the golden light, was a halo of long brown hair, cascading down to touch my bare chest, hiding her ears but not the sight behind her. It became quickly evident why I had been unable to wrap my arms around her back. Framing her entire body was a pair of massive white wings that nearly glowed in the half-light of my bedroom. Still half asleep this didn't bother me as much as it maybe should have. I smiled at her.

"Hi." Ok, not the most original greeting I admit, but I told you that it all felt kind of comfortable and familiar already, and I'm trying to recount this story as accurately as I can.

She smiled back. "Hi." Her voice was almost like bells ringing; it seemed so fluid and musical.

"Thank you?" I couldn't take my eyes off her face, and the wings behind it.

"You're welcome."

"Who are you?"

Another serene smile, "I'm called Thea."

"What are you?"

"I'm your guardian Logan."

"Guardian? Like as in Guardian Angel?"

"Yes, we help to protect the innocent, and the helpless."

I was on the verge of being a little peeved, I didn't see myself as either innocent or helpless, but then she finished her thought with another little grin.

"And the foolhardy."

Okay, I could give her that one.

"Why?"

"Because you have a great purpose in this life, and I have been charged with ensuring that you reach it."

There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask just then, it was hard to prioritize them so the following conversation was a little jumbled between us; though to give her credit, she answered each query thoughtfully.

"Who charged you with looking after me?"

"A being that I know as God, what you might call him I do not know." I filed that answer for later examination.

"What is this purpose?"

"I do not know for certain, I am sorry Logan." Damn, I guess that would have been too easy.

"You aren't related to Warren are you?"

"Mr. Worthington? No. He is a mutant, I am not." Well thank God for that, amongst other things.

"So what are you? Are you a real Angel?"

"I suppose by a simple definition I am; a being from another plane of existence, with wings."

"Do we all have Guardian Angels?"

"All you mutants? No. There are others of my kind who watch over some of your friends, but not all."

"Do you watch over others?"

"I have, humans mostly, during various times in their lives when they needed the help."

"So you have come to me when I needed help?"

"When you were in danger of dying."

"Then why tonight? I've had nightmares all my life. Why this time did you wake me?"

She had no answer immediately.

"Putting your hands over mine was dangerous, if my claws had come out I could have seriously hurt you."

"You wouldn't have." She held up a hand, and urged me to take it. When I tried to it became completely non corporeal, not unlike Kitty's abilities, my hand passed through it.

"But I can feel you, here, now." In fact she was still straddling me and I could more than feel her weight on me.

"I am real, as real as you need me to be."

"But you still haven't told me why you came tonight."

"You needed me," she paused, the second betrayal of her insecurity "I thought you needed me."

"Perhaps there was more than that?" Oh, I was pushing my luck.

"I don't understand Logan."

I reached out a hand for her neck, and cupped it, drawing her face close enough to mine that I could press my mouth to hers again. Pushing my luck, part two. I only just kissed her, not deeply, just enough to steal another breath. I felt her muscles tense at the first, and for a split second I thought I had made a pretty huge mistake, but then she relaxed into me, and kissed me back, with the same hesitancy of the kiss underwater that had left me wondering for days.

"Perhaps you needed something too?" Pushing my luck, part three.

"I have watched you for so long Logan, not like stalking you, I promise, but I've been called to you so many times. I just wondered." She stopped, cast her eyes down, and blushed. I didn't know that Angels could blush.

"I wondered too." I made my voice all soft and whispery. Not like a pick up line okay, don't go painting me as the bad guy here. But I did kiss her again, and this time I used a bit more force and parted her lips to taste her, just a little. Pushing my luck, part four.

She responded, darting her own tongue into my mouth, laying her body out over me more completely, and I grabbed her hips and began to grind mine against her. Sorry, I am a man after all, and a beautiful woman, in my bed, in wings and an ethereal glow, hovering over me, well, how the hell am I supposed to fight that? This s*** does not happen often enough to me.

Course, right then, my luck ran out. There was a pounding on my door and Scott's voice.

"Logan? Logan? Is everything all right in there?"

What the hell? I thought to myself, having to tear my lips away from the woman above me.

"I'm fine Scott, go away!" I kept a grip on her back; afraid for her, as she looked into my eyes, obviously scared.

"The Cuckoos picked up something, a presence they couldn't understand, from in this area."

Damn, stupid telepaths, those three girls were used to keeping watch on everything on the island, at least while Emma was trapped in her diamond form. Normally helpful, right now their interference couldn't have been less desired.

"There's nothing here Scott. Go away!"

"Open the door Logan!"

Damn again, he'd always been a tight assed annoyance to me. I didn't move. We both heard the sounds of the doorframe beginning to splinter. I released my hands from Thea's hips and sat, prepared to defend her if necessary, but she faded from my view just as Scott fragmented my door completely.

"Bloody Hell!" I said it as much to curse Scott, as to bemoan my own luck that she was gone again.

"Who the hell was that?"

"Who?" I played dumb.

"The creature with the wings, sitting on you Logan?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about Scott. You should get some more sleep, you're seeing things."

The furious look on his face made up for some of the anger I was now feeling, at least we could both be pissed off and I wouldn't have to suffer alone.

"This isn't over Logan." He backed up past the rubble of my door. "You know as well as I do there was something in here! We have a duty to keep this place safe."

"We're not the only ones." I muttered under my breath.


	5. Chapter 5

The weather didn't get any better, which made my mood even more sour. I hadn't seen her since the night Scott had burst into my room, five days ago. I didn't know what time meant to her, if it was linear in her world, or non-existent. I'd never had the chance to ask her. All I knew was how it felt for me, and it was pretty hollow.

When the skies did let up, and it wasn't so bitter I'd go out and sit on a rock; ha ha, the whole damned place is a rock. On a specific rocky outcropping, I should have said, that faced the city, and I'd think. I'd fought the devil before, and I'd never not believed that there was a God. I guess most of me just figured on him being some nearly omnipotent mutant, not a divine being, like in the Bible, with legions of angels working for him. And if he was real, I pondered, watching the plumes of my own breath obscure the skyline of Manhattan, what the hell did he want with me?

Course I also sat on the rock and remembered that last frightened look in Thea's eyes. I didn't know what it meant, and that bothered me. Was she scared of being discovered by someone else; in that case Scott and the Cuckoos, or was she scared of me, and what I had been doing, or leading her towards? She was an Angel after all, did that mean she was a virgin? I wondered; had I committed some kind of terrible sin, corrupting her? The fact that she hadn't reappeared for five days made me real nervous. I have to be honest, staring out at the icy water, that I more than once considered diving in, but since I knew that I probably wasn't going to let myself drown I didn't know if it would count on the whole Guardian Angel scale thing. And besides, Scott already had enough going against me; a suicide attempt wasn't going to help my case.

I lit up a cigar, and took a long drag on it liking its warmth in my hand and my chest. The snow was starting to fall around me again, and I wasn't getting any visions, no matter how hard I stared at the water. So, I packed it in for another day, still unsatisfied, and went back inside to find a drink to go with the cigar.

On the seventh day I was back to hiding in my room, feeling more anti social than ever. It was still cold, no one was going out to the mainland because the water was choppy, I still hadn't seen or heard anything of Thea, and I was just generally pissed off at the world. I thought I had made my mood pretty freakin' transparent to everyone, but apparently someone thought it would be a good idea to knock on my door.

I have to add here, that I didn't know why I felt so miserable. I mean, really, I'd had a thirty minute conversation with this girl, once, and I'd kissed her, okay a few more times than once, but she'd really gotten under my skin somehow. Part of my mood was trying to sort out why her absence was bothering me so much. Women didn't usually affect me like this, not ones I barely knew. Because, despite the fact that I wanted to know her a lot better, I really didn't have anything invested in her. At least superficially that's what I believed at the time. I've been wrong before, guess I was wrong then too. Or maybe not wrong, just not enlightened enough quite yet. Anyways, here I am, off on another tangent again, back to the story.

Scott banged on my door, this time kindly waiting long enough for me to actually get up and tell him to 'F' off to his face. He just smiled at me. 'You first, now get your gear' he said, 'we've got work to do.' Well that I could handle, anything to get my mind off my troubles, I might have even smiled, but I won't actually admit to it. We have a strange relationship Scott and I, we act like we really hate each other, and a good portion of the time we do, but I think we respect each other mostly, and understand the hells we've both been through to get where we are.


	6. Chapter 6

It felt good to get my uniform on again, that was something else I hadn't had enough of in the last few months. Certainly not since we'd moved out to the rock. Maybe I should cal this place Alcatraz, that's what it was beginning to feel like; I don't think the food is any better either. Scott, myself, Betsy and Piotyr piled into the Blackbird, headed for JFK where the military had a hanger we used. I flew, that felt good too.

Scott explained, rather quickly on the short flight, that we were meeting a Special Ops unit, assigned to S.H.I.E.L.D. who were finally going to serve a search warrant on Norman Osbourn's office complex, I'm not sure if we were back up or the offensive line, but I was good with the idea. That man had been a nuisance to us for a really long time, and I had had no idea until that point that anyone in government was actually working to take him down. I figured he was in everyone's pocket, or the other way around, literary conventions aren't my forte. (Picture me grinning here as I write this.) At any rate, I had figured with all the militia groups he'd managed to set up, and deposit with law enforcement that he was untouchable. But people were telling me the tide was starting to turn back in our favor, at least with the people. So I figured, with the five or so minutes I gave myself to think about the politics of it all, that he had either pissed someone off, or someone was looking to move themselves up the totem pole a few rungs by exposing this guy for what he really was.

I'd never forgiven him for the whole nanobot incident, when he'd scanned us all with the little robots on the Predator X drones he'd sent to the island. He thought the information could be used to destroy us. Well, we're still here; sadly so is he, so I guess I could call it a draw. But I had hope that this little excursion was going to tip the scales back in our favor. And, hell, truth be told, I really needed to beat the crap out of something, and this seemed like a reasonable opportunity.

There were ten agents waiting for us in the hanger, every one of them in full combat gear, down to the helmets and automatic weapons. The one with the most stars on his helmet came over the greet Scott. They spoke for a while, and then we all loaded into a troop transport for the drive over to the downtown Manhattan office building, which served as Osbourn's headquarters. I was sure Norman knew what was coming, but probably not who, so when we walked up, behind the military grouping, the Security Guard at the reception desk, a mutant in his own right, and in Norman's employ, looked just a little startled at the show of force. He did manage, however, to alert his boss that we were coming, and because we were working with S.H.I.E.L.D. on this one I restrained my natural urges to prevent him from doing that by slashing his workstation to ribbons, and knocking him into next week. I could play by the rules too; sometimes.

Without going into a terrible amount of detail at this stage, because you can always read Scott's mission reports, or Fury's if you like, lets just say that what could have been a pleasant, easy visit to arrest Norman, got a little harder than the Bureaucrats probably wanted; in our own defense, we did leave the building standing.

Here's the Cliff notes version, Cole's notes for you Canadians reading this.

Norman Osbourn, being the self-centered bastard that he is had converted most of the Penthouse floor of the office tower into his little personal playpen. His private office was up there, and so were his little entourage of mutants. He kept them around to feel powerful, I figured, that he felt superior since they were on his payroll, doing his work. Sort of like the fancy sports car for the guy compensating for a lack of, ah, shall we say, other assets. What he lacked in prowess, he made up for with his little minions. Now I'm not saying the guy wasn't smart, 'cause he was, in his own 'evil genius' kind of way, and he sure could manipulate situations to his advantage. Not that I admired the guy, not by a long shot.

Anyways, off topic again, we'd gotten all the way up to this playpen of his. Norman was at his desk, staring at the elevator doors as we arrived. We had split the group into two, and I rode up with the first half, with Betsy and five of the soldiers. This group was pretty much on the ball, and was more than happy to let me take the point, which is the way I like it.

"Hi Norman." Okay, I could be a bit of a jackass, but I figured he deserved it after everything he had done to me and to my friends. I tried not to think of Daken. At least I had enough celestial brownie points that he wasn't one of the four mutants who also greeted us as we stepped out into the office space.

I recognized them by sight as regular denizens of Norman's inner circle. Betty, Thug, Verre and Blast. All of them glared at me, I glared back; boy, pissing contests are fun. I can only imagine what was reflected in the visors of the Special Ops team behind me.

"These folks here have a search warrant Norman." The elevator rang again and the second half of us emerged. Piotyr was already in his metallic form, it looked good.

"I wouldn't have believed that my own government could view me as such a threat." Norman made out as if he was speaking to us all, but he wasn't.

"Funny that." I remember answering. "You gonna let these people do their jobs?"

"No, I don't believe I am."

No surprise there, his minions advanced on us and we spread ourselves out in front of the soldiers. With their first step forward I drew my claws, I heard automatic weapons snap behind me. I loved that sound when it was on my side. It was authoritative and courageous. Fury had a good bunch here.

"You sure this is what you want Norman?"

"I have spent years defending this city and this country from the likes of you and your masters." Ooh, I hated that word. "I don't recognize the authority of bullies here."

I'm pretty sure that tirade qualified as irony by the proper definition, I might look it up if this writing thing keeps going well.

So, it was on.

As I said before, I'm not going to bore you with the minutiae of the battle that followed. If you know anything about us then you have a good idea how it mostly went. I'll limit my narrative to what made this melee different.

The things we were fighting were enhanced somehow, and without giving the ending away too quickly, they had a better idea of our styles and the nuances of our abilities than we had expected.

The automatic weapons fire around me was a secondary concern; I threw a quick look backwards as it started, though I wasn't able to see the eyes of those soldiers who were firing. Something about one of them struck me as familiar, but I didn't have time to dwell on that just then. I trusted that the people behind me with the weapons weren't going to shoot me. Even when Blast drew a katana it was all still in stride. I had a great deal of experience with Japanese weapons. Blast moved quickly, more quickly than I remember him being able too, and when he got the first slash off on my skin, and it really stung, I began to wonder what was going on. When I countered the next blow with my claws, and the katana didn't break, I got worried. The blue glint confirmed it for me; it was adamantium. Bloody hell, where had Norman gotten adamantium, especially some forged into a sword? A few more glancing blows off my claws and I was starting to feel the rattling in my skull, it wasn't comfortable, but I kept it up. To give myself credit, I landed a few blows on him as well, so we were both bleeding; only I healed up faster. I didn't take the time to look at the team around me; I knew Piotyr was working on Thug. The man didn't feel pain, I'm talking about Thug here, Piotyr could feel pain. When I got double-teamed I wasn't sure who had gone down. It got a bit harder for me then. Betty's attentions pulled me away from the constantly swinging blade. As I tossed Betty to one side a heard a shriek behind me, my name, 'Logan' which was unusual, but the voice was one I knew. I hit the deck as I saw a flash behind me, and a blade pass over me. I rolled backwards and saw her; wow she was incredible.

The guise that had been camouflage and a semiautomatic was vanishing in that same golden glow I had become used to seeing; if seeing it three times made it familiar. She'd been shadowing me; but I wasn't upset or anything. On the contrary, it felt kind of warm in my chest to see her, I'm sure I smiled. She wasn't watching me just then, but most everyone was watching her.

My guardian angel was an angel of vengeance now. She had made her wings fully visible, and her hair was whipping around her face and shoulders, despite the absence of a breeze. In her hands was a sword of her own, a long sword, made entirely of fire. She swung it towards Blast, over my supine body; I felt its heat. The blade passed through his outstretched katana, leaving it unharmed, but when it met his body; well, he fell, bisected, to the ground, Betty screamed. It wasn't really messy, I didn't take a lot of time to examine it, but it looked pretty cauterized to me.

I sort of thought that felling the one person would have been enough, but I was wrong. Thea knelt, picked up the fallen katana and tossed it to Betsy, who was picking herself up off the ground. She promptly turned back to Betty. Thug launched himself at Thea, and was immediately cut down by the same flame.

"They aren't human" was my recollection of her whisper. It explained a lot. They were enhanced, organic machines, programmed by the same stolen nanobot information about us. Damn Norman Osbourn, I leapt over the fallen forms, past Thea, who now stood motionless, only her eyes surveying the scene, and me.

"Call them off Norman, or they'll go down too." The last two dropped to their knees on the floor, immobile. I reached out and ripped the headset off him, none too gently, turning him around and shoving him into the arms of two soldiers, also not gently. They snapped handcuffs on him and led him out. I watched him leave then turned my eyes back to Thea.

"You wanna come back to the rock with us?"

I knew what answer I wanted to hear, but I wasn't going to influence her.

"I'm afraid Logan." Her answer was very soft; I doubt anyone else heard it. I stepped closer to her.

"I won't let anyone hurt you."

"I know."

The look in her eyes scared me. The thought that she might have been afraid of me returned to the forefront of my mind.

"I won't hurt you either."

"I know." She smiled just a little, but couldn't look me in the eye. I was glad no one else was close enough to hear us.

"I wouldn't make you do anything you didn't want to."

She sighed, but it wasn't really directed at me, it didn't seem. It seemed so introspective.

"That's just it Logan. I do want too, and that scares me."

Part of my heart wanted to just yell out loud, 'woo hood!' but I didn't because there was the second part of her statement to process.

"Would you consider coming back with us so we can just talk about it?" I couldn't believe the words were coming out of my mouth.

"Hey, you two?" It was Scott, timing, oh my God, he was certainly blessed with it. "You coming with us?" I looked into her face; it seemed so tiny just then. Her eyes stared right into my head, but she seemed to nod just a little so I grabbed her hand, just in case I was wrong and turned back to Scott.

"On our way." She didn't resist as I urged her, just gently, to follow me.


	7. Chapter 7

We all got back into the troop transport; it provided better cover than simply getting back to the Blackbird hanger under our own power. I hadn't let go of her hand yet, she seemed to need to keep that grasp on me, so I let her, what did it matter to me?

"You going to introduce us to your friend here Logan?" Scott again. Couldn't let well enough alone could he. I suppose it could have looked as if I was being rude, or thoughtless.

"Thea? Let me introduce you to Scott Summers, Betsy Braddock, and Piotyr Rasputin. Everyone, this is my friend Thea." She looked up and nodded demurely at everyone with a shy smile, not quite so terrified looking. Though her grip on my hand told another story. I was having a hard time understanding how a being so powerful, possessed of a fire sword that could cut any of us in half with barely a thought could be scared of anything. I knew I was going to ask her about that later.

Scott came forward, despite the pitching of the truck; army vehicles were not usually equipped with decent shocks; at least not the ones we were given to ride in. He stuck out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you." He had that superstar smile plastered to his face. Sometimes I was jealous that he was so pretty; in my weaker moments. This wasn't one of them; her hand was still firmly in mine. She offered him the other.

"I am pleased to meet you as well, all of you, as friends of Logan." Her voice sounded like bells again, wow, it really could enchant me.

"So Thea, how long have you known Logan?"

"About three years now."

"Really?" His voice went up just a bit, like a predator who'd just gotten his claws into its prey, but perhaps I wasn't being fair. Maybe I could admit I was a bit jealous right then. "Funny how Logan never mentioned you before?"

"Perhaps for Logan, discretion is the better part of valor?"

Touché darlin'! I know I grinned. Scott was silent for a minute.

She kept a composed face on Scott, and spoke matter of factly, "you wish to know if we are lovers, is that it?" Betsy giggled, and Piotyr turned away in embarrassment. Me, I was just rooting for this girl, she could hold her own. I could hear Scott choke on his own spit right then. He stammered just a bit before attempting to defend himself.

"No, of course not, that isn't any of my business."

"You're damn right it isn't." I muttered low.

"I simply wondered why you had come to us now, I suppose", he backpedalled a bit, but still managed to glare at me.

"It became necessary."

"How is that?"

"Recently I was given the task of watching over Logan."

"Recently? I thought you said you had known him for several years?"

"Time is a relative concept." Her voice was so demure, I loved it.

"So, for you, three years is recent?"

"Yes."

"Well just how old are you?"

"I'm sorry, I was given to understand that it was impolite to ask a woman her age?"

Oh yes, once again, this girl was good. I gave her hand a squeeze. Scott stammered again as Betsy giggled.

"I can see why you are friends with Logan."

"Please, allow me to apologize Scott. I am very nervous here with you all."

"There is no need for you to be nervous friend." Piotyr joined the conversation. "While we may look less than friendly,"

"Hey, I object to that." Betsy smiled at Piotyr, "I'm not scary looking am I?" The verbal bantering was not new for us, but had been absent too long.

Thea cast her eyes down again, continuing to hold my hand.

"I am not used to being known by so many people." Her voice was quiet, but spoke volumes to me. Of course, it wasn't her nature to be obvious, she was a guardian angel, not a bodyguard, letting so many people see her had to be a cause of great anxiety. "And I am not used to talking so much."

"You don't have to say anything more Thea." I tried to encourage her, I had promised to protect her.

"Thank you Logan, but I have taken the first steps have I not?"

"You don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." I knew everyone else could hear me, and I didn't care.

"You may trust me Logan, but these people have no reason to."

"My word should be enough."

"It won't be. Not now. Scott will most certainly wish to have one of the telepaths question me."

Scott looked a little ashen. "Can you read my mind?"

"No, I have just made an educated guess. You need to ensure the safety of everyone on the island. But your telepaths will not be able to read my mind. Oh, they will know of a disturbance, as they did before. But I am not like you."

Thankfully by this point we had reached the hanger, and though I had to leave her side to pilot the plane, I hoped that the line of questioning would end. Unfortunately, Scott picked up right where he left off, ensuring, in fact, that he was seated right beside Thea on the flight back. At least the flight was short.

"Can you tell me what you are Thea? I don't mean to be rude, but you yourself have said it, I do need to protect all these people." Scott tried to be quiet in asking the question, maybe he hoped I wouldn't hear; but I was listening hard.

"I'm not a mutant like you all."

"No?"

"No, my people are all like me."

"And what are your people?"

"Angels."

Damn, I couldn't turn around to see what all the silence was about; I had to keep my eyes on the horizon.

"Angels?" That was Piotyr's voice.

"Angels." She confirmed it. "Created by God Himself to do his work."

The silence was back.

"That is why your telepaths will not be able to read me. I am not human. I have lived for millennia. And you are the first group of people I have ever revealed myself too."

"And why have you done this?"

"I hope you will understand if all I say is that it was time. I do not know that I can give you a better answer than that."

"Leave her alone Scott." I spoke to the windshield physically, but hoped Scott would understand my meaning.

"You have met God Himself?" It was Piotyr again.

"It was He who gave me the charge to guard Logan."

"A Guardian Angel?" Piotyr's voice sounded almost reverent. I heard nothing after that except the cockpit radio crackle to life as we made our final approach to Scott's Utopia. Once on the ground I was free to finally turn and look at my passengers, the sight made me a little uncomfortable. Piotyr had moved over to Thea, as Scott had risen to depart the aircraft. He was kneeling in front of her, and she had her hands on his head, the glow around her was beyond ethereal. I didn't know what was happening, Piotyr had never seemed overtly religious to me, but then again his mind had been torn to shreads as well, perhaps she had given him something to hold on to; it looked as though she was blessing him, maybe she was. I gave them another moment, busying myself with post flight duties. Finally I stood, and went back to her. She was smiling, like those pictures of saints you see in the churches; here she was in her element. I guess I felt good for her, I wasn't sure.

Piotyr and I both walked her off the plane; Scott was waiting with Emma at the end of the walkway. Scott obviously hadn't taken Thea at her word. Emma was fixed on her in a way I knew, trying to scan her, and not even being discrete about it. I saw her shake her head, just minutely, Scott had seen it, so had I. I never doubted what Thea had said would be true. I smiled at Scott, so did Piotyr, it seemed that she had found another champion.

"Well Scott?"

"You are welcome to stay with us, I'm certain Logan can tell you how our little society functions here." I noticed he didn't go so far as to call us a family, as he usually did. He still didn't trust her, but he was putting the responsibility on me, which was just bloody fine.

"Thank you," she replied to the odd invitation she had been given, not elaborating. Scott nodded and he and Emma and then Piotyr and Betsy left us alone in the makeshift hanger. I turned to her, tried to smile, even though my gut was twisted back in knots, which had loosened only while I had listened to her verbal sparring with Scott.

"Do you want to go back to my room and talk?" I made the first step, terrified; I'm being honest here, that she was going to say no, and just disappear.

"Yes." Her voice was painfully quiet, in such contrast to the power of her words on our ride back. I offered her my hand again, and she took it. I held on, maybe a little too tight, but she didn't complain, and she didn't pull away.


	8. Chapter 8

"Why don't you tell me how you're feeling, and why you feel scared?" Listen to me eh? Psychologist Wolverine, if I hadn't actually been there at the time I wouldn't have believed it either. We were in my room, I don't think I've adequately described it yet; spartan, yes, that worked. I told you about the futon mattress, mine was on a wooden riser, about twelve inches off the floor. I had a mat in front of it, where I could sit, and meditate, and a trunk, with my things in it. A few hooks on the wall, candles on the floor, private bathroom, mind you, I had insisted on that. Showers often helped to wash away the nightmare images that sometimes invaded. And hey, I figured since I helped build the damn place, I could put in what I wanted. You might notice that I didn't mention any chairs. Didn't actually have any, I didn't have visitors, and if someone did come by I usually didn't want to encourage them to stay.

So we were there, standing in front of the bed, staring at each other. Me, trying to hold back the urges to take her in my arms, and kiss her, and touch her, and totally do exactly what she didn't need from me right at that time. Damn, as I think back on this, I was so taken with her it was unbelievable. Those eyes, just on this side of normal, were staring at me, I knew that look too, trying to decide what to say and how to start saying it.

"Have you ever had an ache in your chest Logan, a pain that just consumes you?" I nodded, it was a rhetorical question, and I knew enough to recognize those.

"It just hurts so much sometimes that I wish I couldn't feel anything at all, I think that it might just be easier that way. But then," she took in a very quiet little breath, "I think that if it was gone that I just couldn't live without it and that it would be better to be dead than not have it."

Oh damn, this was heavy, her eyes were staring right through me, even though I could still look straight into them, I reached out a hand to just brush her arm, to let her know that I was still there. She shivered.

"I know I told Scott that time was relative to me, and that three years could be only the blink of an eye. But even though this pain is new, it feels as if it has been with me forever, it's just so deep, so familiar. I have spent what seems like years seeing you Logan, in every thought, in every movement, in every sideways, corner of my eye glance. And I don't know why."

"Haunted." I spoke the word very quietly; this was her time.

"Yes, and more."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I am afraid of the desire I feel for you, and the implications of it."

My heart leapt, how could it not? She wanted me, she'd said it, and selfish little me, was so enthralled with the notion that it became even harder to not pull her into my arms right then.

"What are the implications?"

"The unknown, it frightens me. I have never felt like this before. I don't know what to do." Her words were beginning to seem a little frantic, so I took her hand again.

"But you can feel? He gave you that, doesn't that mean something?"

She thought for a moment. I pressed the point.

"If He had not wanted you to feel, to have this possibility, would He not have made you differently?"

"I suppose?"

"He gave you free will, He gave us all free will."

"But that doesn't mean that every choice we make with that gift will be the right one."

"At the risk of sounding like an eighties pop song; how can it be wrong, if it feels so right?"

She looked at me again, with all her attention this time, her eyes brimming with tears. I knew in my gut what I wanted to hear her say, what I wanted her to do but I stood still, I tried to look like a friend, not a desperate lover, which was just what I was.

"Please don't cry." I brushed away one tear that had slipped the bounds of her lower lids. "And please don't leave me."

I hadn't quite meant it the way it had sounded. I had meant to ask her not to just vanish again, to stay and to let me try to help her sort out the feelings that were warring within her. But I think maybe, in the end, it came out just the way it was supposed to. Tears rolled down her cheeks, she stepped towards me, closing the already small gap between us. I knew what she wanted then, as clear as if she had said it out loud. I put a hand behind her neck, carefully, as if she were made of glass, and pulled her face forward the last two inches or so to mine so that I could kiss her. She cocked her head to meet mine and I brushed her lips, no ferocity, no lust, just sharing breath as I parted her lips with my own. I waited, to see if she would pull away, if she would run from me, but again she did not, and I pushed against her just a little harder. She yielded to me completely, folding into my arms, and it was she who ventured her tongue into my mouth, so shyly it set my heart on fire, tasting me first until I reciprocated in kind.

"Tell me what you want?" It was a selfish request, I knew it, but I needed to hear it from her.

"I want you to touch me." She spoke into my shoulder, where she had curled her head, "And I want to touch you. I want you to make love to me." My whole body shivered; god, the feeling of it was delicious. Her hands were at my neck, pulling the collar of my uniform; I unfastened it and shook my arms from it, letting it drop around my waist. Her hands ran across my chest, lighting at my waist, as she dropped to her knees before me, pulling at the fabric. I froze.

"I don't have much on under this." My voice sounded hesitant, which was unusual for me; the softer, gentler Logan. Yeah right.

"Neither do I." The soft golden glow that had been ever present faded just slightly I noticed, and then she was kneeling before me with nothing but her long brown hair to curl over her breasts. My body shook again. Her hands went back to pulling at my uniform.

"Wait." I breathed it as much as spoke it. My arousal was plain, no denying that. But I didn't want it like that. She was innocent; I just wanted it to be better than that for her. I put my hands over hers and then knelt down to face her again, rocking back so that I was sitting on the edge of the bed. I looked at her, god she was gorgeous. Her skin was alive and healthy, not pale and wan or porcelain like. She had color and shadow, and even a few little scars. I didn't have scars, I should have, for every fight I'd gotten into, and every time I'd cheated death, but I didn't. They healed up perfectly every time. And all I had to show for my life was sinew and corded muscle under my skin. But she was soft; I ran my hands over her shoulders, around her back, between the wings. How on earth could she want me? I didn't want to ask, not then.

I pushed out of my uniform, slid it down my legs, and cast it away into a corner. At least sitting offered me a little bit of discretion; or perhaps I should have called it modesty. Both words seem really out of place for me. She pushed herself closer to me, between my legs and with arms wrapped around her back I crushed her against my chest and swung her around to lie solidly on top of me. Oh god. I didn't have words for it, her softness, her warmth, her glow, it was what I needed, what I wanted. Well, not everything I wanted, but I was going to share that too. I know, selfish, but honest; and maybe not wholly selfish anyways.

We continued to kiss, going deeper, and I ran my hands along her side, pressing her into me. I didn't care anymore that she could feel the solidity of my erection, pressed against her abdomen. She had to know how much I wanted her, I needed her to know.

I could feel her heart beating through her chest, pressed into mine, and I could match the rate and depth of her breathing with my own. Finally she pulled back, sitting astride me and looking down into my face. I missed the warmth of her skin against mine and so I also sat, wrapping her in my arms again. She pressed her face to mine, whispering in my ear.

"Logan," a pause, she needn't have bothered, she had my full attention; I still loved the sound of her musical voice. "I have waited millennia for you, I cannot wait another moment. Please?"

My whole body trembled; I lay back down, sliding my hands to her hips, never leaving her gaze. I pulled her body forward on mine; she was so hot, and lifted her, just a little. I guided her down onto myself; slowly, and nearly melted to hear a low, desperate cry that escaped her lips as I entered her. It was her turn to tremble. I loved it.

I was slow, and gentle as I guided her back and forth on me, I could feel every breath she held, every hesitation, every wave of tension as she guarded herself with the pleasure she was feeling. Watching her, feeling every stroke deep within her, had brought me to the edge of my climax, but I held out, loving the anticipation of her orgasm even more than the thought of my own.

"Oh Logan," she moaned breathlessly. I loved when she said my name; it made me feel like the only man in the world just then, the center of the universe, which was the circle our bodies had created. I looked up at her, all of her. Hell with you Scott; I must add that I wasn't thinking this at the time, only as I reflect on the memory, I'm not that kind of bastard; other kinds, well sure. Scott might have had Jean, and Emma, and his pick of dozens of other beautiful women, in his bed, but he had never had an angel, a beautiful, ethereal woman, with wings, and a body made by God himself, in his bed, connected to him intimately as she was to me.

"Let yourself go." I whispered back, hoping she would know what I meant, I knew I couldn't hold out any longer. My grip on her hips tightened, not enough to hurt her, but enough that I could grind myself against her. Her innocent, bell-like cries increased in depth and volume until she threw back her head, eyes closed, the vision was glorious and enough to put me over the edge. I came for her, feeling every one of her waves ride over her. I held my breath and pulled her body onto mine, desperate to have every point of connection possible. We lay, and breathed together, and shared kisses for many glorious moments. I felt my arousal growing again, and I rolled again, so that I set her into the soft duvet of my bed, which I had never bothered to remove.

Holding myself up on my elbows I bent to kiss her, and then trail the affections of my lips down her neck onto her chest.

"Let me show you pleasure." I could hardly believe it was my voice coming from my mouth. This girl brought out the best in me, and right at that moment, I liked it, and I liked the noises she made in response to me. I moved my mouth down to her breasts, cupping them with my hands, running my tongue over their centers in turn, bring them to attention while she wound her fingers in my hair and kept my attentions on her body. I smiled, feeling the pressure, and knowing what it meant.

I continued kissing down the center of her abdomen, still feeling her fingers twined in my hair. And I was feeling cocky; not terribly unusual for me admittedly, so I let my hands light on her thighs and I gently pushed them apart, just enough that she was opened to me. I darted my tongue between her legs and heard the most delicious moan escape her lips. Cocky went up a notch and I continued. Her body sort of relaxed into me, and I could see that she had closed her eyes. Her hands had fallen to her sides, and she looked utterly peaceful, as if she had slipped into a dream. Only the soft cries and subtle movements of her body under me could have clued an observer in to the fact that she was not simply asleep. Not to say there were, or would ever be any kind of observers to this, I'm working out more of these figures of speech. I mean to say that she was enraptured.

"Logan?" Again she called my name, so faintly it was like the wind.

"Angel?"

"Thank you."

I slid my body up hers again, and plunged inside her. The gasp was long and drawn out. Arms wrapped my back and encouraged my thrusts. Where I had been so careful the first time, now I wanted even more. I didn't want to be feral, but I was so caught up in the way she had tasted, and the way she smelled, and the way her body encouraged me. I forced myself against her, over and over, my own breath coming in increasing rasps. I was selfish in that instant, I couldn't wait for her, I just wanted to come inside her again, and I nearly bit through my own lip as I did, shuddering, and screaming out a predatory roar. But do you know what was so amazing about it? As I had increased my intensity against her, she had wrapped her legs around me, pulled her body tight to mine, and matched my vigor. The cry that escaped her lips was just as animal as mine, and in that instant I could not have loved her any more; even if I didn't quite have the presence of mind to realize it at the time. I pulled her roughly into my arms and crushed her against me, panting with the exertion and the orgasm, and the overload of sensations that were drowning me.


	9. Chapter 9

She gave up everything to be with me. I didn't know it at the time, she wouldn't tell me about the sad look in her eyes sometimes, when I caught her, and she didn't know I was watching. But eventually she told me the truth. She had chosen me over her vocation, she had known that would be the way from the moment she had kissed me and whispered to me to touch her. That was the uncertainty of the unknown; and here I just thought she was talking about feelings and sex and all that. Shows how dumb I can be sometimes, I should have realized that everything with her was much more than surface deep. So I got angry, my usual first response to any uncomfortable situation. I was mad at God that He would take that from her, and mad at myself for not realizing it at the time. I threw a few curses into the air; also pretty typical for me. Her hand on my bicep and her voice made me feel even worse.

"Why me?" I remember asking, "Why would you give everything up for me?"

She smiled through the little tear-streaked paths on her face. "Because you are my destiny now Logan." I cursed again, not at her, at myself, she understood.

"How could I look after anyone else when my mind would always be on you? That isn't fair to the beings that need help. There are others who will take my place, because I am to be at your side now, for as long as you will let me."

I just remember hugging her really tight right then; I felt like shit. I said sorry to God under my breath, He wasn't the first one I had rushed to judge, and probably wouldn't be the last. But at least now I could admit it.

The first few weeks on the island she stayed with me at night, but during the day she would vanish; I had assumed that she was attending to other duties, I didn't ask, I was being selfish again. I just loved that she was my bed every night; I didn't even think that she was just escaping from something that was uncomfortable for her. In the evenings, when the weather broke, we would walk around the rock and I would point out what the buildings or structures were for. Sometimes she would fly above me, or just out to sea, and I loved to see it. I'd seen Warren fly before, but his motions were always with such purpose, most of the time it seemed so violent; pitching into the air and diving from it again. She just flew for the love of it, and you could tell. Her wings moved gracefully, she took long sweeping turns and would catch the updrafts like a bird. And the way the twilight caught her. I know Piotyr watched sometimes too. She spoke with him if we happened to meet, and with Betsy, and a few of the others. She was still very quiet around Emma, but Emma also seemed very uncomfortable around her; not being able to read someone gets a telepath's radar going something fierce. And Scott, well, she never, ever met his eyes, not since that first day she decided to come with us. Truth was, though she tried to hide it, she seemed quite terrified of the guy, shying away and speaking only as much as she had to. Here I have to give Scott credit, he was trying to be nice. I think he had finally realized that she posed no threat; hell, she was hardly ever around anyone she could have harmed, and she never went out without me. She just trembled when she saw him; beyond his ability to see though.

That was another place where I really fell down in our relationship. The selfish part of me was actually happy to see that she wanted nothing to do with him. Part of me was still afraid that I'd lose her to him when she finally realized what a bastard I was really. So I didn't push her to figure out what was really going on. And I let it go on for way too long. Months passed, and only rarely did she come out with me during the day. She never seemed unhappy, but when other people started asking me what was up with her, my cinderblock head finally kicked in. I had a choice to make; my own familiarity or her comfort. Really it wasn't a hard choice.

We moved out into a cabin in Northern Canada. Isolated, which I thought might bother her, because at least on the rock she could have moved around freely amongst the other mutants, none of who would have judged her. I was wrong again. She loved it. She flew around over the treetops and to the base of the mountains every day. She smiled all the time, and only trembled at the right times; because of me. I didn't mind being alone at all, I had a pickup truck and went into town when we needed things, and I did jobs for the X-Men and the Canadians when they needed me. We had never made a secret of where we were, and once or twice some local teens popped up, usually on a dare, to gawk at her, strangely, that didn't seem to bother her either. She could do enough with her form to make them question their own eyes. Bothered me a bit initially, but because it turned into a game for her I left them be, long as they didn't do any damage, when they did they got to fix it, while I watched. I didn't make any secret of my powers.

Life was good. That's when she finally told me about Scott.

Scott was going to kill me. Let me tell you how long that sentence took to sink into my head, quite awhile, believe me. I don't even think I can fathom it to this day. It was one of the last things He showed her before she left. It was supposed to happen on the Rock, and it wasn't quite his fault, but it came at the end of a series of events, which would see him sacrifice me. It made my blood run cold to hear it described, but it explained a lot about her discomfort. I didn't know just how much I believed in destiny; I think I believe enough to know that it can be as fluid as water sometimes. But hey, why take the chance? We stayed put and watched a winter and a spring come in together. It was nice to be 'normal'.

I fell in love with her pretty early on, not that I'd admit it to myself then, but as I look back I could see all the signs. I cleaned up my language; as best I could. I started doing nice things for her 'just because'. I slowed down my drinking and smoking. And I missed her when I was away from her. I found her creeping into the most mundane thoughts, and I was happy. That was the big clue. I didn't walk around with a big chip on my shoulder, and when I did get angry, she could calm me down by just speaking my name out loud and touching me. I always figured it was another one of her Angel powers that one, but I didn't see the point in asking about it.

So why? You may ask, did I write all this down. Well, it has to do with the whole thing about being in love with her. I didn't just want some kind of sex diary describing my prowess; I don't ever expect anyone else to read it to be honest. It's for me.

Destiny or fate, however fickle has seen me get into a lot of scraps over the years. And more than once someone has wiped out all my memories and left me an animal, trying to piece together who I was and where I belonged. I figured if that held track then there was a decent chance it might happen again, and I just didn't want to lose this. So I wrote it out, longhand, so I would know the writing style, and I made copies. I sent one to the Rock, for safekeeping, I gave one to Thea to hide, and I have one here in the cabin. If something should happen the only person I might trust is myself, so it's a message to me in the future, so I can remember who she is, and how we came together, and that I love her and that I can trust her. And that's about it, my little insurance policy so I don't lose her or myself. And there you have it, or rather, here I have it. And that's the end of this story.

Okay, maybe not quite the end, it was supposed to be, but one more thing happened that I thought I had better write down. She came to me this morning, she'd been quite for a few days, but that happened to each of us every once in awhile. But this morning she had a big smile on her face. She looked at me and I could just see her eyes bursting with some kind of news she had to tell me.

"There's going to be a child." She told me, the look in her eyes just begging for my acceptance of the news. I accepted, by swinging her into the air before I could even think that I might hurt the baby. She giggled, like bells again.

So I'm going to be a dad it seems, at least I am going to get the chance to be a dad this time. She says it'll be in the spring, my mind is already thinking about building a nursery. I feel happy. I just thought you should know.


End file.
